


Blindsided

by KyloTrashForever



Series: Oneshots [38]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Blindfolds, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fantasizing, Kinktober 2019, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Sex Club, but not really?, but very soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 21:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21083030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyloTrashForever/pseuds/KyloTrashForever
Summary: Is he really going to fuck a stranger?He could still leave. He could walk out of here and call Rey up and be a fuckingmanabout it and take her to dinner and hopefully soon walk into a bedroom withhersprawled out and waiting and he—His chest feels tight when he thinks of her laugh that’s just a little too loud and her eyes that are definitely too bright and the way she says his name: soft, quiet, like a secret—No. A girl like that would never… She just wouldn’t.Ben takes a deep breath, reaching for the blindfold, then the doorknob, and he knows there’s no going back.In which Ben’s anonymous sex isn’t that anonymous after all.





	Blindsided

**Author's Note:**

> This is weirdly soft for an anonymous sex club fic, but I’m not really that surprised. 😅  


“I need you to sign this consent form.”

Ben eyes the typed paper warily, wondering for the dozenth time if he’s _ actually _going to go through with this. He takes the clipboard from her slowly. “Are there any other rules I need to be aware of?”

The woman dressed in more leather than Ben has ever seen in one outfit gives him a bored expression. “You can’t take the blindfold off.”

“At all?”

“Nope. Not unless the other party consents. If you’re reported doing otherwise, you’ll have to pay a fine.”

He can’t help but be curious. “What’s the fine?” 

“One thousand dollars.”

_ Jesus, _ he thinks. _ That’s four times as much as the entry fee. _

“Anything else?”

She blows a bubble with her gum, letting it pop loudly. “We’ve given each participant a safe word—and if either party uses it, all activity must stop immediately. Failing to do so will get you a hell of a lot more than a fine, buddy.”

Ben nods. “For sure.”

_ It isn’t like he plans to do otherwise. Shit. _

“Your word is pineapples,” she goes on. “Other than the safe word, there is no talking allowed.”

“At all?”

“Nope. Not unless both parties consent, and your partner already checked no. So. Keep it zipped, guy.”

Ben takes a deep breath, still not entirely sure how Poe talked him into this. He’d certainly never heard of _ Empire _ before this week—having not even known there had been _ any _ sort of underground sex club in their city. 

Not that he’s ever had any desire to seek one out. He _ still _ doesn’t have one, if he’s being honest. 

_ You just need to get laid, _ Poe had assured him. _ Then you’ll stop thinking about her, and if you’re not ever going to fucking do something about your sad-ass crush—you _ need _ to stop thinking about her. _

Ben doesn’t particularly _ want _ to stop thinking about Rey—but he can’t seem to bring himself to _ do _anything about his “sad-ass crush” either. He’s been working alongside Rey for a year now—and the most meaningful conversation he’s ever been able to have with her was about how excited they’d both been for the new Keurig in the break room. 

He’d ducked out of the discussion before he’d even gotten to tell her which k-pods he used most. 

He doesn’t know what it is about her, or rather, he _ does _ (it’s her hair and her eyes and her mouth and just _ all of it really), _but he can’t seem to speak to her without devolving into a flustered mess of a human being that can’t formulate coherent sentences or even smash appropriate syllables together. 

The knockoff-dominatrix that makes him more than a little uncomfortable leads him into a small waiting room—lit by a soft blue glow in lieu of a normal lightbulb, another door on the opposite side of the room that he assumes leads to… 

Ben gulps. 

“Undress in here, and go ahead and fix your blindfold. I mean it, dude. We don’t accept any, _ oh it was an accident _’s here. If the blindfold is reported off—you’re fined.”

“I got it.” He eyes the little bench in the room. “So I take… everything off?”

“Yup. All of it but the blindfold.”

_ She’s really stuck on this blindfold thing. _

“So I get… completely naked?”

“You know what you came here to do, right?”

His face heats, and he’s grateful for the blue light. “Yeah.”

“Well.” She shrugs, reaching for the door handle. “Might as well dive in. You have an hour—but you can leave whenever. A warning buzzer will sound when you have five minutes left. If you don’t come out by the hour you’ll be charged another block.”

Ben nods back at her. “Got it.”

“There are condoms on the table by the bed.” She gives him a grin, closing the door and leaving him alone. 

Ben stares at the door that leads into… the main room, feeling his chest flutter with nerves. It isn’t as if he can’t get a date (he could, he absolutely _ could _ damnit)—it’s just that he can’t seem to _ want _ to. Too hung up on knowing that anyone he takes out, he’d just wish it was _ her. _ Too wrapped up in his own self-loathing that he can’t just ask _ her _out instead. 

He is grateful for the strange blue lighting as he begins to shrug out of his shirt, grateful that his, ah, _ partner _won’t be able to see his embarrassed flush. 

_ Oh. _ He eyes the blindfold he dropped on the bench, pursing his lips. _ Right. _

It’s only when he begins to unbutton his jeans that the full weight of what he’s doing starts to set in; is he really going to fuck a stranger? Fuck them without saying a word, never to see them again? Never to see them at _ all? _

The process for this has been strangely clinical—all forms and traded medical health screenings and _ fuck _ he’s never done so much just for sex. He supposes he understands the appeal of it, anonymous sex to the highest degree, but he still isn’t sure if this is something _ he _should be doing. 

Poe’s selling of the idea made so much sense to Ben four drinks in after work last week, and sure, signing up for a slot after stumbling home still slightly hammered might not have been Ben’s _ greatest idea—_but it had made sense. Then. At least. Faced with the reality of it now… he’s not sure what makes sense anymore.

He could still leave. He could walk out of here and call Rey up and be a fucking _ man _ about it and take her to dinner and hopefully soon walk into a bedroom with _ her _sprawled out and waiting and he—

His chest feels tight when he thinks of her laugh that’s just a little too loud and her eyes that are definitely too bright and the way she says his name: soft, quiet, like a secret—

No. A girl like that would never… She just wouldn’t. 

_ You need to stop thinking about her. _

Maybe Poe is right. 

Ben takes a deep breath, reaching for the blindfold as he’s left only in his underwear. He fixes it over his eyes, knotting it tight behind his head and waving his hand in front of his face to test it out. Nothing. He can’t see a damned thing. God, he hopes he doesn’t trip over his rowboat feet and embarrass everyone involved. 

Ben reaches for his underwear, then the doorknob, and he knows there’s no going back. 

There’s music inside. Something soft and lilting—and he imagines it’s there to offset the crushing silence of everything else. He’s wary at first, stepping inside the room stark-naked, but he reminds himself that she is blindfolded too. That she can’t seem him. It makes it only a little easier. 

He’s careful, as he crosses the space—making his way across thin carpet that scratches his feet and only reminds him further that he’s _ here _ . That he’s doing this. Why _ is _he doing this?

His shins hit the soft edge of what he assumes is a bed, and he pats it blindly before dipping a knee on top. There’s a sharp intake of breath when he does this—and he stills because it’s impossible to ignore that someone is _ here. _ Someone naked and waiting for him. Are they as nervous as he is? Are they experienced at this? _ Excited? _

He waits only a moment before continuing to climb onto the bed. 

It’s awkward, not being able to see, and his fingers brush against a bare leg before he draws back quickly, almost as if her skin burns him. His tongue feels heavy with a need to check in with her, but the urge dies when he feels little fingers creep along the bed covers in search of him. She raises them high, colliding with his chest to trace its shape, and he shivers a little because it’s been _ so long _since anyone touched him. Shivers more because he can’t help but imagine one face in particular in the absence of his sight. 

Rey’s hands are small, too. Would her touch be so light? 

He takes her touching as permission to do a little of his own, and he tentatively reaches out to let the pads of his fingers collide with a soft curve that he thinks is her hip. He squeezes there lightly, rewarded with another soft gasp that spurs him on. One of her slim fingers begins to trail down, tracing the lines of his abdomen as she lowers it between his legs, where his cock twitches with interest. 

He’s not entirely hard, too wracked with nerves about this entire experience, but when her seeking fingers curl around his thick length, palm sliding beneath it in an exploring way, it jerks in her hand with something a lot more potent than just interest. 

His breath releases in a ragged pant, feeling emboldened under her touching as he crawls over her a little further. When he curls over her body, he can feel the hardened points of her nipples against his chest—and he reaches a hand between them to palm one pert little tit, tweaking a nipple between his fingers as she cries out softly. 

It should be weird, and maybe it is—this faceless touching, but Ben thinks he really can understand the appeal of it. The freedom to imagine anyone you like during. In his mind, her skin is tanned and freckled and the soft curls at her nape are the same ones he stares longingly at for the better part of his day. 

He wonders if this silent woman is doing the same thing. If she’s imagining him as someone else, or if she’s just here to enjoy what he can give her. He thinks either way she won’t mind his indulgence. 

He bravely ducks his head, finding her shoulder and pressing his lips there as she arches into his touch. He trails over her skin languidly, tracing her collarbone, licking at her sternum, finding the soft swell of her breast to nip there lightly with his teeth. 

He’s given in to the full fantasy of it now, and there’s no denying that, in his mind, it is _ Rey _ beneath him, and it is _ Rey _that makes those sweet little noises when he touches her. 

Ben is definitely hard now. 

He kisses down her belly, feeling the skin tremble under his mouth as a tentative hand reaches to let her fingers card through his hair, gripping it softly as if testing the length. She lets out an airy sigh when his tongue dips into her navel, and he wonders again just what she’s thinking of. Just _ who _she’s thinking of.

When his mouth trips over soft hair before the sweet scent of her arousal fills his nostrils—Ben swallows thickly before continuing. It’s something he’s thought about _ incessantly _ with Rey—laying her over his desk while he kneels between her legs and sucks at her cunt until she’s _ begging _him—to stop or continue, he isn’t sure. 

He can imagine it now. Rey’s legs parted wide, her thighs shaking just a little, the heady scent of her clouding his senses just before he licks through her folds that are wet only for _ him—_he can imagine it _ all _ too well. He smoothes a palm down this stranger’s thigh, feeling it tremble with his touch as his thumb finds the crease of her leg and her pelvis to stroke there. He feels her relax a little with his ministrations, and he holds his breath as he reaches to let a knuckle pass through her folds. 

_ She’s wet. _

Is it for him, or for some other face in her mind? 

He finds he doesn’t mind the possibility, his own vision filled with the image of Rey spread out for him, _ waiting _for him—wanting for everything he can give her. 

He teases the tips of two fingers through the lips of her cunt, hearing her breath catch when they pass over the little bud of her clit and finally releasing the one he’s been holding. The soft music still plays in the room—but it’s hard to focus on it with the way her breathing picks up and grows harsh. 

He doesn’t know what he wants more—to tear the blindfold away and see _ exactly _who he’s touching, or to keep it firmly in place and live in the fantasy that he’s touching the one person he’s wanted to for longer than he cares to admit. He’s grateful the choice has been made for him. 

She is still, _ so still _as he lowers his head, letting his hands and her scent guide him as the heat of her cunt radiates against his skin, begging for him to taste it. He can still feel the tension in her when he slides a hand beneath her ass, and he waits a handful of seconds for her to say something. To use the safe word and stop this. When she doesn’t—when the only sounds that touch his ears are the sensual music from some overhead music and their collective breathing—he finally allows himself to touch her the way he wants to. 

_ So sweet. _

He doesn’t know this person, not their name or their face or any single thing about them, but her taste on his tongue is heady as he licks through the slick crease of her. Her scent is doubly so, filling his nostrils and blocking out the reality of everything else. 

He can feel the wet trickle of her against his chin, over his tongue—and he laps it up with a slight groan as a soft sound tears out of her. In his mind he can pretend that it’s his name that floats on that breathy sigh, that the woman he’s half-in-love with is taking his tongue and his touch, _ needing _it. 

He grips her hips, moving on to open-mouthed kisses as if he wants to swallow her whole.

In this moment he sort of does. 

Because it’s not Rey in his hands, under his tongue—it’s some unknown stranger he’ll never see again, never _ know— _but in this moment, she’s everything he ever wanted. And isn’t that the point?

Her soft cries grow louder, _ needier—_and her fingers find purchase in his hair to tug as he hollows his cheeks, sucking her clit into his mouth until a garbled sound tears from her throat. Ben holds her still, hands at her waist to trap her against his face, not bothering to hold back his sounds as he noisily licks at her already-drenched cunt. 

Even in the haze of his fantasy, he recognizes just how much he likes how she responds—how she writhes under his tongue, simultaneously pushing further against his face and trying to pull away in escape. She’s pulling his hair so tight it actually _ stings, _ but he can feel her back bowing just a little from the bed, hear the frantic breathing above that tapers off into choked gasps, and he _ knows _she’s close.

He reaches between them to press a finger inside of her, hooking it to rub against her front wall in a heavy stroke that makes her whimper. She’s shaking, and _ so tight. _ He hears the little pops of her toes, feels the way she begins to get even wetter against his face, and she’s there, she’s _ right there— _

She may not be Rey, this woman he can’t see, but he likes the way she comes.

It’s loud, until it isn’t—a cry tapering off into a quiet mewling that licks low in his abdomen and lower still in his balls that feel as heavy—his cock now throbbing with a need for more than this. Her hot channel clenches around his finger, her walls quivering around him with the aftershocks of her orgasm, and he draws out quickly only to press his tongue at the twitching little hole, trying to force it inside and actually _ feel _ her climax.

He’s a little lost to what’s happening, overwhelmed by so much physical contact after having gone so long without it—and he has to admit it lowers his inhibitions. His earlier nerves have fizzled out, too caught up in the feel and taste of this woman, too dizzied by the fantasy that she is someone else. 

He pulls away from her, crawling over her and tracing her curves with his hand as he goes. He can feel the way her breathing is still labored, feel the way her chest rises and falls with effort when he presses a hand between her breasts. Maybe it’s too intimate, for a thing like this. Maybe it isn’t part of the deal—but she doesn’t protest, or push him away, when his mouth finds hers. She opens for him, tongue sliding against his where her flavor still rests, and her hands wind around his neck to pull him close. 

Her mouth is soft, and warm, just like the rest of her—and he tangles his fingers in her soft curls, imagining that they belong to someone else. Maybe that’s wrong, maybe that _ is _ the point—he thinks it doesn’t matter now. Because behind the darkness of the blindfold it is _ Rey _ whose throat he’s teasing with his tongue and it is _ Rey _ whose body is pinned under his own and she’s warm and _ small _ and _ perfect— _she’s everything he’s ever wanted—she’s the only thing he—

_ “Rey.” _

It takes him (and her, he thinks) a few seconds to realize what has happened. To realize that he’s just said Rey’s name. He feels the woman go still beneath him, not moving away but not _ continuing— _and awareness hits him full in the face as he panics slightly. He doesn’t know what he should do now, if he should apologize or be silent, refraining from committing any more transgressions—but the silence is thick and palpable between them, and he can feel the gentle press of her hands that have found their way against his chest, pushing slightly to put distance between their bodies. 

He pushes up on his hands, wrestling with what to do—but it is only when he feels her begin to inch away that he finally gives in to his anxiety. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “Accident.”

She doesn’t say anything, and he feels that panic bubbling up in his chest until it leaves him slightly choked with it. 

“It was an accident,” he babbles. “Won’t happen again. After this. I won’t say another—” 

Her whisper takes him by surprise for a number of reasons, but mostly because of the question it poses. “...how did you know my name?”

Ben’s heart feels like it sinks down into his stomach, only to be washed away by the violent churning that ensues there. He scrambles up, leaning back on her heels as he feels her scooting away towards the headboard. 

“Yo-your name?”

“You said my name.”

Her voice is still hushed, surprised, he thinks, but there’s something about it. Something he—

“I didn’t know that was your name.”

“It’s not exactly common. How could you say it by accident?”

His heart has found its way back to where it belongs, and he knows this because he can feel it _ pounding _ beneath his ribs, so hard that it might possibly break them. Because he knows that voice. He would know it anywhere. He’s spent the better part of a year _ straining _ to listen to every word it utters, and there is _ no _way that he wouldn’t recognize it. 

Ben swallows thickly. “It was an accident.”

“How could it be an accident?”

“I said it because—” His fingers clench into fists at his sides, his cock still hard between his legs, harder _ still _because—“I was thinking about someone else.”

She is quiet, and his hands itch to _ touch _ her—his mind _ reeling _ because how is this even possible?

“Someone with my name?”

“Yes,” he replies hoarsely. “Someone with your name.”

“Is that weird?”

“It might be,” he says tightly, struggling to contain himself. He can still _ taste _ her. _ Her. _“You didn’t think of someone else?”

She goes quiet for a few more seconds, then: “I was.”

”I see.” Everything inside him crumbles because of _ course _ she was. Of _ course. _ His jaw clenches, at war with himself because he could say nothing. He could _ finish _ what they started, it’s what she signed up for after all, no one would ever _ know—_but Ben knows already he can’t do that. Not with her. Never with _ her. _It could never be some forgotten thing with her. “I don’t think we can keep going.”

“What? Why? We can go back to not talking. We already paid for—”

“I can’t do this,” he grates. “Not with you.”

He hears her sharp intake of breath, and he imagines she thinks he’s insulting her. “Oh. Can I ask… why?”

“Only if you’re sure you want to know.”

“I do.”

Ben takes a shaking breath, wrestling with the decision to walk out that door or lay it all out on the table. He could scramble away, be out of this room before she realizes who he is—and that would be the end of it. He would have the memory of her soft cries and her softer cunt imprinted on his mouth, and he could let that be enough. Or… he could do something about his sad-ass crush, once and for all. 

Ben reaches for his blindfold, not giving a damn about the possibility of a fine. He inches it up, propping it on his forehead, the wind nearly knocked out of him by what he finds. 

Her arms are wrapped around her knees, her mouth parted slightly in confusion as her curls stick out around her head in slight disarray from where his hands have mussed them. He drinks in her skin in the soft blue light—something that exists in this room as well—her freckled shoulders still stark even in the strange hue, eyes dipping down to the swell of her breasts that are _ just _ covered by her arms. Knowing he’s _ tasted _them. 

Ben scoots a little closer. “Rey.”

She tenses, pulling her lip between her teeth. “What are you—”

“_Rey_.”

She goes still, her face scrunching up in thought, her lips parted as he reaches for her blindfold. She tenses a little when he gently grabs the edge, only showing a _ tiny bit _of resistance before her curiosity seems to win out. He slides it up slowly, bringing more of her pert little nose that is dusted with freckles into view, her delicate cheekbones that are much the same—finally revealing her long eyelashes that flutter open when he pushes the soft fabric up over her hair. 

She blinks once, then twice—just before her eyes go wide with recognition, and her breath catches in her throat. 

“Ben?”

His hands linger at the edges of her blindfold. “I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t.”

“How did this even—?”

“I think I have an idea.” He frowns as he thinks of Poe, about to tell her all about it when—

Rey groans, her forehead falling against her knees. “Rose.”

Ben falters. “Rose?”

“I’m so sorry, Ben.” She nods against her knees. “This whole thing was her idea. I think she set this up somehow.” 

He doesn’t mention Poe yet, curious. “Why would she do that?”

Rey looks up at him, biting her lip. “Because she”—she swallows, still gnawing at her lower lip nervously—“knows how I feel about you.”

“How you”—the room feels a thousand degrees warmer, and his heart feels like it might _ explode— _“feel about me?”

“I’m so sorry,” she groans. “I know you must be mortified.”

_ Mortified? _ His hands drop to her arms, sliding down the length until he can circle her wrists, pulling her hands between them, enclosed in his own. “Rey. Do you know who set this up for _ me?” _

“No.” She shakes her head, staring back at him dazedly. Did her eyes just drop to his mouth? “I don’t.”

“Poe,” he breathes, thumbs beginning to rub a pattern into the backs of her hands. “Do you know why I think he did it?”

Her head moves back and forth again, eyes _ definitely _ fixed on his mouth, and possibly even dipping lower? He’s still so _ hard. _

Ben takes a deep breath. How easy it had been for her to admit the truth. How _ simple _. He knows he wants to give her the same. “Because he knows how I feel about you.”

“How you”—she sounds a little breathless now—“feel about me?”

“Rey… a minute ago I had my tongue between your legs—” His cock jerks with interest at the memory. “And I didn’t know who you were, had no _ idea, _ but—” He doesn’t miss the way she’s leaning in a little bit, so he does too, and he’s so _ close— _ he could just—“I was thinking about you the _ entire _ time.”

“You were thinking about…” Her eyes widen a little. “You said my name.”

Ben’s heart will surely _ escape _with the way it pounds inside his chest now. “I did.”

“You were thinking about me?”

“Rey.” The distance between them is so small already, and he leans in further still, bringing a hand to her face, hearing her breath hitch in her throat and wanting to swallow it whole. “I’m _ always _thinking about you.”

Her legs have fallen open, and it’s easy for him to ease between them, to bring the heat of her body back to his.

“You never said anything,” she breathes. 

“I didn’t think”—she’s settling into the pillows, eyes never leaving his even as he lets a palm settle at her hip—“you would ever feel that way. About me.”

“You’re amazing, Ben. You’re smart, and kind, and so thoughtful—I didn’t think you would ever feel that way about _ me.” _

“You’re _ perfect, _ Rey.” His cock slides against her belly, and the way she _ shivers _ with it. “I feel all _ sorts _of ways about you.”

His lips hover over hers, and he can feel her breath, _ taste _it, even. He can feel the flutter of her eyelashes against his cheek, his nose brushing along hers. 

“Ben.” Her voice is hoarse and tight, as if each word is difficult. “Can we—would you want to—”

He manages a, _ God, yes, _just before his mouth crashes against hers. 

Her mouth is somehow just as sweet as her cunt. _Sweeter, _even. Was it this sweet a moment ago, or does knowing it’s _her _that he’s kissing somehow elevate the entire experience? He’s thought about the shape of her mouth every day for longer than he can remember. Thought about what it might feel like against his own. There’s an eagerness to her kiss he hadn’t anticipated—and it makes it even sweeter because she _wants _this. She actually _wants _this. Wants this as much as he does. Something he never believed _possible_.

He can’t seem to settle for just one part of her. He tastes her mouth and her jaw and even her throat—wanting to map every inch of her this way. 

“You really”—she gasps when he sucks particularly hard at her pulse point—“thought about me? Before you knew who I was?”

“Yes.” His teeth graze the delicate line of her throat, eyes closed as he follows with a soothing lick. “So sweet, Rey. So wet and _ sweet. _ I thought you had to be, too. I thought that your cunt would be just as sweet.” His cock slides through her swollen folds, pulling a sound from both of them that is needy and desperate. He finds her ear, sucking at the lobe a little too eagerly. “And I was right,” he breathes. “You’re everything I thought you’d be. _ More, _even.”

Her hands curl over his shoulders, trying to pull him impossibly closer. “I thought about you, too.”

“Tell me.” He ducks his head to leave a messy, open-mouthed kiss at her breast, then flicks his tongue against her nipple. “_Please, _Rey.”

“I thought about—_ah— _ thought about your hands. How big they are. When you hand me a report. When you reach for the coffee cups in the cabinets.” She gasps when he sucks one taut peak into his mouth, pulling at it deeply for a long draw before releasing it with a _ pop. _“I imagined the big hands touching me were yours.”

He flattens a palm over her belly, skimming his fingers down and down and _ down _until he can slide two through her center, parting the wet folds of her vulva to curl them and catch at her entrance. 

“What else?”

“Y-your mouth.” Her back arches when he pushes two fingers inside, a sweet little cry falling from her lips. “I thought about how it would be that soft. On my—my—”

He bites gently at her nipple, pushing his fingers deep as she moans. “Say it,” he rasps. “Tell me where my mouth was.”

“M-my cunt,” she answers breathily. 

“I want my mouth everywhere.” He flattens his tongue at the underswell of her breast, humming against her skin. “The things I’ve _ thought _about. Every inch of you, every hole—I want to taste it all.” 

“_Ben.” _

“Tell me I can fuck you. _ Please, _ Rey.” His cock rests against her thigh, and he ruts against the soft, warm skin in a daze. “You’re all I’ve thought about. All I _ want—please, _Rey—let me—”

“I want you to,” she shushes, tugging him up by the hair and sliding her mouth over his. She traces his lower lip with her tongue, dipping it inside for one slow lick into his mouth before murmuring, “I want you, Ben.”

He tries to pull away, spotting the bowl of condoms the lady in leather had mentioned and attempting to scramble towards it, but Rey drags him back, shaking her head. 

“No.”

“But the form said you wanted—”

“Not with you,” she rasps. “Wanna feel you. _ Please, _Ben.”

As if he could deny her. As if he even _ wants _ to. He trusts her. He’s elated that she trusts _ him. _He lets his arms fall on either side of her slowly, eyes raking down her body to where her legs are parted on either side of his, grabbing for his cock and rubbing the head of it through the lips of her cunt to coat himself. His eyes flutter at the slick feel of her, savoring it for a few moments as he circles her clit with his cockhead.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he tells her quietly, the sound almost lost to the music overhead. “How _ long.” _

Her fingers creep over his shoulders, teasing at the hair curling at his nape from sweat as her thumbs slide across his throat. “I think I have an idea.”

He lowers to cover her with his body, groaning as he hungrily kisses at her mouth, her skin pressed to his as he hastily pulls at her thigh to spread her legs a little further. She whimpers when the head of his cock catches against her entrance, and his mouth goes slack when he begins to push inside, unable to focus on kissing her for the warm stretch of her that invites him in. 

“Rey.” His head lolls until his forehead rests against her shoulder, feeling her lips at his hair as he eases in another inch. “_Rey.” _

“Oh God, Ben—” Her nails scrape against his shoulders. “Ben, you’re—”

“Just a little more,” he pants. “I’m almost—”

He surges that last bit, his cock warm and snug with _ nowhere left to go. _ He can feel her all around him, so tight and wet and _ perfect, _ and he wants to drown in this, wants to _ live _ like this—but mostly he just wants to _ move _. 

His kisses at her mouth are a bit frantic now—_ desperate, _even, because that’s how he feels. “Can’t believe this is—”

She tilts her hips up to angle him impossibly deeper, and broken words whisper between fevered kisses. “I know, it’s so—”

“Fuck, Rey, you feel so—”

“—you’re so big inside—”

“—you’re so _ small—” _

“—I think you could—”

“—want to move, can I—”

“—_ move, _Ben. Please, move.”

That first drag of his cock against her walls makes his vision darken, forcing some all-over euphoria through his veins that makes him a bit weak. He props up a little on his hands as her ankles wrap around his waist, watching the way his cock draws out, the wet shine of _ her _evident even in the blue lighting. 

“Rey, you’re”—his eyes remain glued to the way she seems _ stretched _ around him as he pushes back inside—“_so much_.” He can just lift a hand to press it flat against her belly, feeling it tremble under his touch as he slowly dips backs inside. “So much _ better.” _ He bites his lip, lingering as he shifts his hips if only to prove that there is _ absolutely _ no room left inside her. “Better than _ anything _I thought about.”

“Ben,” she sighs. “Can you touch me? I just need a little—”

His hand drifts lower before she has to specify, fingers dipping to circle her clit as a needy little sound escapes her. With every slippery pass of his fingers he can just catch his cock sliding into her, closing his eyes as he picks up the pace of his hips to hit deeper, _ harder— _ filling her again and again until breathing becomes a chore. Until the pressure in his cock becomes unbearable, so close to coming already that it’s almost _ torture _not to. He ducks his head, sucking her nipple into his mouth sloppily, his hips stuttering as he struggles to hold on. 

“Wanna feel you come,” he rasps into her skin just before he swirls his tongue around one swollen peak. “Been _ dreaming _ about you coming on my cock.” His teeth graze her skin, eyes shut tight and _ so hard _ he could burst. “Pretty little cunt. Wanna _ feel _it.”

“_Ben. _ Right—_yes—_just like that—can you— _ yes—ah.” _

“Come on, sweetheart.” He can feel it. How close she is. He works her just a little faster. “You’re so hot inside. So tight and _ wet. _Can you come for me?”

“I’m—Ben, I—Oh my God. Ben. _ Ben. Fuck.” _

The slick walls of her cunt pulse around him, and he doesn’t even have to thrust, to follow after her. He just pushes deep, so deep he can feel the head of his cock bumping against her _ womb— _and he lets the trembling warmth of her insides pull him into orgasm. 

He pants against her skin as she milks his cock, and he comes harder than he has in his life. He comes for what seems like _ forever. _ His mouth at her skin, her nails in his, pressed against every part of her and still wanting to be _ deeper. _

He leaves lazy kisses up her chest, her shoulder, her _ throat— _ finding her mouth to let his tongue sweep inside, and she _ meets _ him. She kisses him like she’s _ starving _ for it. 

Ben is still half in disbelief that this is real.

She cards her fingers through his hair after, and he can’t seem to pull out of her, even when his cock is growing soft and their fluids trickle out onto the bed sheets. 

“That was…”

Her lips press to his temple. “I know.”

“I keep waiting to wake up.”

“Do you want me to pinch you?” She laughs softly, falling quiet after. Contemplative. “This definitely isn’t how I pictured this happening.”

“I didn’t think this would happen at all.” He’s still thoroughly fixed on mouthing at her jaw. “So.”

“It doesn’t matter how it happened,” she answers quietly, tugging at his hair to force his gaze up to meet hers, grinning at him. “I’m glad it did.”

His throat is dry, and his chest is full, and he’s so deliriously happy he might _ explode _with it. “Rey, I—”

A loud buzzing interrupts him, and a glance at the clock on the wall shows that they only have five minutes left. He frowns, not ready to leave her. 

“I could pay for another hour. We could—”

Rey presses her fingers to his lips, beaming at him. “Or you could take me to your place.”

“You… want to?”

“_Ben,” _she laughs outright. “I’ve wanted to come back to your place for like a year.”

Ben doesn’t think he’s ever gotten dressed so fast in his life.

They find each other in a dark hallway after, and Ben imagines they look strange in this place of cages and pulsing music, holding hands like they’re strolling through a park. But Ben has waited what seems like a lifetime for this—so he kisses her against the blood-red walls like he’s been doing it for years. He holds her hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

He doesn’t let go of her hand until long after he’s gotten her home.  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
Come say hi on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kylotrashforever)!  
I made a [Twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/KTF_Reylo), come follow me!


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